Unwired, Unwound, Undone
Dear friend,
It feels odd to be leaning on the balcony of a grand concert Hall, the lights of Budapest playing on the dark waters of the Danube.
Behind me, behind glass, a reception with speeches and dignitaries and artists and Chiara in her “Audrey Hepburn” dress.
It’s dream like and real at the same time.
Artists who have enthralled a packed auditorium struggle to accept compliments. The lead soprano shy, moving amongst the guests. Overwhelmed by requests for autographs from three young students, she’s drawn irresistibly towards them.
I find myself chatting with a friendly guy with expensive glasses and a nice suit. He turns out to be the creative director of the concert hall. There’s great wine and canapés. Ivan, the conductor of the orchestra gives a speech about unity.
Later we go dancing with the production team. In the backstreets we meet a group of Italian boys, professional chess players. They’ve been ripped off in a tourist joint and are overwhelmed by the city. The guys take the youngsters under their wing and give them some pointers.
The night melts from one scene to the next. We’re dancing to jazz and then old school garage. The streets are buzzing with people and guys with shaved heads and beards driving German cars with their car seats wound back. Three pass in as many minutes. Each a pastiche of the other.
I have the sensation of being pulled deeper into the world.
Instead I ask to be undone.
Unwired.
Set free.
To let go of these images of the self that arise.
“Who are you in all of this?”
The false self wants to compare itself to some other. Either it’s in victim mode and the others can see you don’t have it, whatever the ‘it’ is
Class.
Cash.
Talent
Deserving
Or it’s inflating like a helium balloon. Looking for others to look down on, you see how far you can fall.
It makes you giddy.
It’s all an illusion.
All of it.
Sometimes you arrive at the sweet spot.
This morning the rain poured down on the city. Chiara and me in our hotel room. The sky is grey and I’m surprised how much I like the feeling. We meditated together and are sitting working with the sound of the hotel’s air conditioning whirring softly in the background.
The do not disturb sign is on the door.
It feels like the cocoon of a library. A retreat from all of the swirling energy out there.
Stillness.
How much I’ve come to love to be still on the inside. How quickly the spinning of the planet becomes the spinning of the mind.
I remember Mam would sit in the comfy chair by the window at home with a mug of instant coffee and a novel.
The blinds would be open and she’d be looking up at the sky. Content, like a cat. Her and Dad would’ve loved to see Chiara on stage last night.
Mam would’ve worn her best blue shoes and pink patterned blouse. Dad would’ve squeezed into his good suit and slicked back his snowy hair.
They’re here now inside of me.
Our loved ones never leave us. You need to get quiet to find them.
I think of them as they are now. Freed from physical restrictions.
Like Ariadne and Bacchus sailing away together into the starry night sky.
That warm feeling comes in waves. It won’t last and it won’t leave for long either. The coming and going around the centre.
Nothing too concerning.
Just to remember to be kind.
Unreasonably so.
Follow that pole star.
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey